Is Tashlich a Biblical Tradition - The Surprising Truth About Casting Away Our Sins

Have I Ever Mistaken a Meaningful Tradition for a Biblical Command?

I remember a time when I thought that if something had been practiced by Jewish people for generations, it must automatically be found somewhere in the Bible.

Maybe you have thought the same thing.

We see a beautiful Jewish tradition. We hear Hebrew prayers. We watch families gather together. We see children participating. We feel the weight of history and community.

And something inside us says, Surely this must be biblical.

But then comes the uncomfortable question:

Where exactly is it written?

That question doesn't destroy Jewish tradition.

In fact, I have discovered that asking it can deepen my appreciation for both Scripture and tradition.

Tashlich is a perfect example.

Every year around Rosh Hashanah, Jewish communities around the world gather near a body of water. We may walk beside a river, lake, ocean, or stream and symbolically cast bread crumbs—or another symbolic object—into the water.

The imagery is powerful.

We think about our sins.

We think about repentance.

We think about the mistakes we wish we could undo.

We think about people we have hurt.

We think about opportunities we wasted.

We think about words we wish we could take back.

And then we cast something into the water.

For a moment, it can feel as though we are physically watching our failures disappear.

But is Tashlich actually commanded in the Bible?

No—not as a specific ritual.

And yet, something remarkably biblical lies underneath the tradition.

To understand that distinction, I have had to learn something important:

A tradition can beautifully illustrate a biblical truth without itself being a biblical command.

That distinction matters.

What Is Tashlich?

The word Tashlich comes from the Hebrew verb shalach, meaning "to cast" or "throw."

Tashlich is a traditional Jewish practice associated particularly with Rosh Hashanah.

The customary practice involves going to a body of water and reciting prayers connected with repentance and the casting away of sin.

One of the central biblical passages associated with Tashlich is:

"You will cast all their sins into the depths of the sea."

—Micah 7:19

And suddenly the symbolism becomes understandable.

When I read those words, I can almost picture the scene.

The water.

The waves.

The horizon.

The bread falling from my hand.

And the realization that repentance is not merely an intellectual exercise.

It is about releasing what I have been carrying.

But there is an important distinction.

Micah 7:19 does not command the Jewish people to perform a ceremony involving bread and water.

The verse is part of a prophetic declaration about HaShem's mercy, forgiveness, covenant faithfulness, and restoration.

Tashlich developed as a Jewish tradition that draws upon this powerful imagery.

That doesn't make the tradition meaningless.

It simply means I shouldn't confuse biblical inspiration with biblical commandment.

So, Is Tashlich Biblical?

The simplest answer is:

Tashlich is not a biblical commandment, but it is a Jewish tradition rooted in biblical themes of repentance, forgiveness, and HaShem's covenant mercy.

That distinction is important.

The Torah does not command:

"On Rosh Hashanah, go to a river and throw bread into the water."

The Prophets do not establish Tashlich as an annual mitzvah.

Yeshua did not command His followers to perform Tashlich.

But Scripture repeatedly teaches us to repent.

Scripture repeatedly calls us to return to HaShem.

Scripture repeatedly assures us that Elohim is merciful.

And Scripture repeatedly uses water as powerful imagery for cleansing, renewal, judgment, deliverance, and transformation.

So I don't have to pretend Tashlich is commanded by Torah in order to appreciate what it can teach me.

The Verse Behind the Tradition

Micah 7 is one of the most beautiful passages to read during a season of repentance.

The prophet asks:

"Who is a God like You, pardoning iniquity and passing over the transgression of the remnant of His heritage?"

—Micah 7:18

Then comes the breathtaking declaration:

"He does not retain His anger forever, because He delights in mercy."

—Micah 7:18

And then:

"He will again have compassion on us; He will subdue our iniquities. You will cast all their sins into the depths of the sea."

—Micah 7:19

When I read this, I realize something.

The real miracle isn't the bread disappearing beneath the water.

The real miracle is HaShem's mercy.

The water isn't what removes my sin.

The ritual isn't what removes my guilt.

The symbolism isn't what reconciles me to Elohim.

HaShem is the One who forgives.

And that changes everything.

I Once Wanted a Physical Sign That I Was Forgiven

Perhaps you understand this.

Sometimes I want something tangible.

I want to see forgiveness.

I want to feel the weight lift.

I want some visible confirmation that the thing haunting me no longer has authority over my future.

That's one reason symbolic traditions can be so emotionally powerful.

They give our hearts something our minds can understand.

I take something representing what I want to release.

I hold it.

I acknowledge it.

And then I let it go.

There is something deeply human about that.

But biblical repentance goes much deeper than throwing something into water.

The Bible's Definition of Repentance Goes Beyond Symbolism

The Hebrew Scriptures repeatedly call God's people to return.

The prophet Isaiah says:

"Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; and let him return to HaShem, and He will have mercy on him; and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon."

—Isaiah 55:7

That word return is crucial.

Repentance isn't merely feeling terrible.

It isn't merely crying.

It isn't merely regretting.

It isn't merely performing a symbolic action.

It is turning.

Returning.

Changing direction.

Coming home.

I can throw bread into the deepest ocean and still walk away determined to repeat the same sin.

And if I do that, I have missed the heart of repentance.

What Does Yeshua Teach About Repentance?

This is where I find the connection between the Tanakh and the teachings of Yeshua especially beautiful.

Yeshua proclaimed:

"Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand."

—Matthew 4:17

Notice what He didn't say.

He didn't say:

"Perform a ritual and you're finished."

He called people to repent.

To turn.

To return.

To change the direction of their lives.

The message of Yeshua doesn't disconnect repentance from the Hebrew Scriptures.

It brings us back to the same fundamental biblical reality:

HaShem desires transformed hearts.

Tashlich Can't Do What Only HaShem Can Do

This is probably the most important thing I have learned.

I can participate in Tashlich.

I can walk beside the water.

I can pray.

I can reflect.

I can acknowledge my failures.

I can symbolically release what I have been carrying.

But I cannot throw my sins into the ocean and make myself spiritually clean.

Only HaShem can forgive.

David understood this profoundly.

After his terrible failure, he cried:

"Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me."

—Psalm 51:10

David didn't merely ask for his circumstances to change.

He asked for his heart to change.

That is a prayer I desperately need.

The Difference Between Guilt and Repentance

Sometimes I confuse guilt with repentance.

Guilt says:

"I'm horrible."

Repentance says:

"I did wrong, and I need to turn around."

Guilt says:

"I don't deserve forgiveness."

Repentance says:

"I will return to HaShem because He is merciful."

Guilt keeps staring backward.

Repentance turns around and walks forward.

This is why I believe Tashlich can become spiritually meaningful when I use it as a reminder rather than as a magical mechanism.

I can stand beside the water and ask:

What am I actually willing to leave behind?

What Am I Carrying That HaShem Is Asking Me to Release?

This question can become uncomfortable very quickly.

Because sometimes I want forgiveness without transformation.

I want peace without surrender.

I want a clean conscience without changing my behavior.

I want HaShem to remove the consequences while I continue holding onto the choices that produced them.

That's not repentance.

And I have had to become honest with myself about that.

Maybe I'm carrying resentment.

Maybe I'm carrying pride.

Maybe I'm carrying jealousy.

Maybe I'm carrying an addiction to being right.

Maybe I'm carrying bitterness toward someone who hurt me.

Maybe I'm carrying shame over something I did years ago.

Maybe I'm carrying fear.

Maybe I'm carrying the need to control everything.

Maybe I'm carrying a secret sin nobody else knows about.

And sometimes the hardest thing isn't admitting that I have sinned.

It's admitting that I don't actually want to let go of it.

Tashlich Can Become a Mirror

I love the idea of using Tashlich as a spiritual mirror.

Not because the water possesses supernatural power.

But because the act forces me to stop.

To slow down.

To think.

To pray.

To examine my heart.

In a world where distractions are endless, intentionally walking beside water with the purpose of reflection can become remarkably powerful.

I might ask:

What did I do this past year that I need to confess?
Whom did I hurt?
Whom do I need to forgive?
What unhealthy behavior keeps repeating?
Where have I ignored HaShem's instruction?
What relationship needs repair?
Where have I allowed pride to control me?
What fear has been governing my decisions?
What am I blaming others for that I need to take responsibility for?
What does genuine repentance look like in my life?

Those questions are far more important than what happens to the bread.

Repentance Sometimes Requires More Than Prayer

This is where things become real.

Suppose I lied to someone.

I can't simply throw a piece of bread into the water and declare the matter finished.

I may need to tell the truth.

Suppose I hurt someone.

I may need to apologize.

Suppose I stole something.

I may need to make restitution.

Suppose I have been gossiping.

I may need to stop repeating the story.

Suppose I have been treating my family poorly.

I may need to change the way I speak to them.

Suppose I have been harboring hatred.

I may need to begin praying for the person.

Biblical repentance produces action.

The Torah takes wrongdoing seriously and repeatedly emphasizes justice, restitution, responsibility, and restoration.

Repentance isn't merely emotional.

It changes what I do next.

The Torah Already Gives Us a Framework for Returning

The Torah doesn't present repentance as a strange foreign concept.

Moses speaks about returning to HaShem:

"You will return to HaShem your God and obey His voice."

—Deuteronomy 30:2

And later:

"You will return and obey the voice of HaShem, and do all His commandments which I command you today."

—Deuteronomy 30:8

This is powerful.

Returning to HaShem is connected with obedience.

Repentance is not merely saying, "I'm sorry."

It involves coming back into alignment with the ways of Elohim.

What About Yom Kippur?

This is another important distinction.

Tashlich is traditionally associated with Rosh Hashanah.

But the Torah explicitly establishes Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, as a sacred appointed time.

Leviticus 16 provides the foundational biblical instructions concerning the Day of Atonement.

Leviticus 23:27 says:

"On the tenth day of this seventh month is the Day of Atonement. It shall be a holy convocation for you, and you shall afflict yourselves."

The biblical calendar therefore gives us a commanded day of solemn repentance and atonement.

Tashlich does not replace Yom Kippur.

It isn't an alternative biblical atonement ritual.

It is a later Jewish custom associated with the season of repentance.

That distinction helps me appreciate both things appropriately.

The Beauty of Tradition Without Confusing It With Torah

I've come to believe that there are two equally dangerous extremes.

The first is:

"If it's Jewish tradition, it must be commanded by Torah."

The second is:

"If Torah doesn't command it, every Jewish tradition is worthless."

I don't believe either extreme serves us well.

Jewish tradition can preserve communal memory.

It can create opportunities for teaching.

It can give children tangible ways to participate.

It can help families mark the seasons.

It can provide language for emotions that are difficult to express.

But tradition should never be elevated above Scripture.

And Scripture should never be used as an excuse to despise everything that developed within Jewish communal life.

I can honor tradition while knowing its category.

That is spiritual maturity.

Why Water?

Water appears throughout Scripture as a profound symbol.

We see the waters of creation.

We see Noah and the Flood.

We see Israel passing through the sea.

We see Israel crossing the Jordan.

We see ritual washings.

We see prophetic imagery involving cleansing and renewal.

And then, in the Gospels, we encounter Yeshua in a world where immersion and water already carried enormous spiritual significance.

John describes Yeshua speaking about being born of water and the Spirit:

"Unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God."

—John 3:5

Water therefore provides a powerful picture of transition.

From old to new.

From uncleanness toward cleansing.

From death toward life.

From wandering toward return.

But again, the physical element points beyond itself.

The water is not God.

The ritual is not God.

The symbol is not God.

The symbol points me toward the One who gives the symbol meaning.

What If I Don't Want to Practice Tashlich?

That's okay.

Because Tashlich isn't a Torah commandment.

I don't need to feel guilty because I don't participate.

And I don't need to judge someone else because they do.

The better question is:

Does this practice help me draw closer to HaShem, honestly confront sin, and pursue genuine repentance?

If yes, it may serve as a meaningful devotional tradition.

If it becomes superstition, empty ritual, or a substitute for repentance, I've missed the point.

What If I Love Tashlich?

That's okay too.

I can appreciate the beauty.

I can take my children.

I can walk beside a lake.

I can read Micah 7.

I can pray.

I can teach them about repentance.

I can explain that the bread doesn't magically carry their sins away.

I can tell them:

"We are using this water as a picture. Our sins aren't disappearing because of the water. We are remembering that HaShem is merciful and that He calls us to repent."

Suddenly, Tashlich becomes an opportunity for discipleship.

A Messianic Jewish Approach to Tashlich

If I were explaining Tashlich to a child, I might say:

"Today we're going to do something Jewish that helps us remember something the Bible teaches. The Bible doesn't command us to throw bread into water. But the prophet Micah talks about HaShem casting our sins into the depths of the sea. So we're going to use this picture to think about repentance."

Then I would ask:

"Is the water forgiving you?"

The child might answer:

"No."

"Who forgives?"

"HaShem."

"What should we do when we sin?"

"Repent."

"What does repent mean?"

"Turn back to HaShem."

That's a lesson worth remembering.

What Tashlich Cannot Replace

I think this deserves a clear list.

Tashlich cannot replace:

Genuine repentance.
Confession before HaShem.
Turning away from sinful behavior.
Making restitution when appropriate.
Seeking reconciliation.
Obeying God's righteous instruction.
Mercy toward others.
Forgiving those who have wronged us.
Trusting HaShem's mercy.
Following Yeshua's teachings.
A transformed heart.

A ritual can remind me.

A ritual cannot substitute for obedience.

Yeshua and the Work of the Heart

One of the things I love about Yeshua's teaching is how often He moves beneath outward behavior and addresses the heart.

In Matthew 5, Yeshua teaches about anger, reconciliation, lust, honesty, retaliation, love for enemies, generosity, prayer, and forgiveness.

Again and again, He takes me beneath the surface.

And that challenges me.

Because it is possible to look religious while remaining unchanged inside.

I can say the prayers.

I can attend the services.

I can wear the symbols.

I can observe the calendar.

I can participate in beautiful traditions.

And still have a heart that refuses to surrender.

Yeshua calls me deeper.

The Hardest Person to Forgive May Be Myself

There is another side of repentance that doesn't get discussed enough.

Sometimes I believe HaShem can forgive other people.

I just can't imagine that He can forgive me.

I replay my failures.

I remember my worst decisions.

I remember the people I hurt.

I remember opportunities I destroyed.

I remember words I shouldn't have spoken.

And I quietly build a prison out of my own memories.

But Psalm 103 says:

"As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us."

—Psalm 103:12

That is not permission to minimize sin.

It is an invitation to stop allowing forgiven sin to become my permanent identity.

If I have truly repented, I don't honor HaShem by endlessly punishing myself.

I honor Him by walking differently.

Forgiveness Doesn't Always Erase Consequences

This is another lesson I've had to learn.

HaShem's forgiveness doesn't necessarily mean every consequence disappears.

David's story teaches us that profoundly.

Repentance does not mean pretending nothing happened.

Sometimes relationships still need rebuilding.

Trust may need to be earned again.

Damage may need to be repaired.

Consequences may remain.

But forgiveness means that my failure doesn't have to become the final chapter.

There can still be restoration.

There can still be growth.

There can still be obedience.

There can still be purpose.

What If Someone Hurt Me?

Tashlich can also become an opportunity to think about forgiveness.

Yeshua teaches:

"If you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you."

—Matthew 6:14

Forgiveness is not pretending the wound wasn't real.

It doesn't mean returning to an unsafe situation.

It doesn't mean refusing justice.

It doesn't mean trusting someone who has repeatedly demonstrated that they are untrustworthy.

But forgiveness means I refuse to let another person's wrongdoing become the master of my heart.

Sometimes the person I need to release isn't standing beside the water.

They're living in my memory.

And perhaps the thing I need to cast away is not the person—but the bitterness I have carried toward them.

A Tashlich Exercise I Can Actually Use

If I participate in Tashlich, I want to make it more than a beautiful walk.

I want it to become a spiritual inventory.

Before going, I can spend quiet time asking HaShem to search my heart.

Then I can divide my reflection into four categories.

1. What Do I Need to Confess?

I can write down specific sins.

Not vague statements.

Not:

"I'm not perfect."

But:

"I lied."

"I gossiped."

"I acted selfishly."

"I held onto resentment."

"I disobeyed what I knew was right."

Honesty is where healing begins.

2. What Do I Need to Repair?

I can ask:

Do I owe someone an apology?
Do I need to return something?
Do I need to tell the truth?
Do I need to correct misinformation?
Do I need to make restitution?
Do I need to repair a broken relationship?

Repentance should eventually reach my calendar, my wallet, my relationships, my speech, and my decisions.

3. What Do I Need to Release?

Perhaps I need to release:

Shame.
Bitterness.
Pride.
Jealousy.
Fear.
Control.
Resentment.
The need for revenge.
An unhealthy attachment to my past.

I can stand beside the water and consciously surrender these things to HaShem.

4. What Do I Need to Change?

This is the most important question.

What will I do differently tomorrow?

Because if my only answer is "I feel better," I haven't necessarily repented.

But if my answer is:

"Tomorrow I will apologize."

"Tomorrow I will stop gossiping."

"Tomorrow I will establish a healthier boundary."

"Tomorrow I will tell the truth."

"Tomorrow I will begin obeying what HaShem has already shown me."

Now my reflection is becoming action.

A Simple Tashlich Practice for Families

If I were creating a family Tashlich experience, I would keep it simple.

Before leaving home

Read Micah 7:18–19 together.

Explain that Tashlich is a Jewish tradition, not a Torah commandment.

Talk about repentance.

At the water

Have each person silently think about something they want to surrender to HaShem.

Then pray together.

With children

Ask:

"What does it mean to say I'm sorry to HaShem?"

Then explain that saying sorry includes changing direction.

Afterward

Ask each person:

"What is one thing you can do differently this week?"

That final question is critical.

Because the goal isn't simply to walk away from the water.

The goal is to walk differently after leaving it.

Do I Need Bread?

No.

There is no biblical command requiring bread to be thrown into water.

In fact, depending on where I am, throwing food into water can create environmental concerns or harm wildlife.

So if I want to preserve the symbolism, I can simply stand beside the water and pray.

I can use a stone as a visual reminder.

I can write something privately on paper and tear it up afterward without leaving anything in nature.

I can simply open my hands and physically release them as I pray.

The symbol can change.

The biblical truth remains.

The Most Important Thing I Can Cast Away

Perhaps the deepest revelation for me is this:

The thing I most need to cast away may not be my sin.

It may be my illusion that I can save myself.

I can become so focused on my failures that I forget HaShem's character.

Micah doesn't end with human achievement.

It ends with God's mercy.

The prophet celebrates the faithfulness of Elohim.

"He will again have compassion on us."

—Micah 7:19

That's where hope begins.

Not with my perfection.

With His faithfulness.

What I Love About the Jewish Calendar

The Jewish calendar repeatedly interrupts my tendency to drift.

Rosh Hashanah asks me to remember.

Yom Kippur calls me to humility, repentance, and atonement.

Sukkot reminds me of dependence, provision, joy, and the wilderness.

These appointed seasons force me to stop pretending that life is merely about work, bills, entertainment, and getting through another week.

They remind me:

I belong to a story bigger than myself.

And that story begins with Elohim.

Tradition Should Point Me Toward HaShem

This is the test I now use.

Whenever I encounter a Jewish tradition, I ask:

What does this tradition point me toward?

If it points me toward Scripture, repentance, humility, gratitude, community, remembrance, obedience, and HaShem's faithfulness, I can appreciate it.

But if I begin believing that the tradition itself possesses power that belongs only to Elohim, I've crossed a line.

The symbol has replaced the reality.

And that is dangerous.

So, Should Messianic Jews Practice Tashlich?

I don't believe there is one universal answer.

A Messianic Jewish family may choose to participate as a meaningful Jewish tradition.

Another family may choose not to.

Neither should automatically be condemned.

What matters is understanding what Tashlich is—and what it isn't.

It is a traditional Jewish practice.

It is not a commandment of Torah.

It draws heavily upon biblical imagery, especially Micah 7:18–19.

It can provide a meaningful opportunity for repentance and spiritual reflection.

It cannot itself remove sin.

It should never replace genuine repentance, obedience, reconciliation, or trust in HaShem's mercy.

And for those of us who follow Yeshua, it can become an opportunity to reflect seriously on His call to repentance and the transformation of the heart.

The Question I Keep Coming Back To

If I am honest, the question isn't really:

"Should I throw bread into water?"

The deeper question is:

"What am I willing to surrender to HaShem?"

Because I can skip Tashlich and still repent.

I can participate in Tashlich and never truly repent.

The water isn't the issue.

My heart is.

And perhaps that's why this tradition has survived for generations.

It gives human beings a physical picture of something our souls desperately need:

the hope that what we have done does not have to determine who we become.

Key Takeaways

Tashlich is not commanded in the Torah.
Tashlich is a later Jewish tradition associated especially with Rosh Hashanah.
Micah 7:18–19 provides the primary biblical imagery behind the practice.
The phrase "cast their sins into the depths of the sea" is prophetic imagery, not a command to perform a water ritual.
HaShem—not water, bread, or ritual—provides forgiveness.
Biblical repentance involves turning back to HaShem and changing direction.
The Torah explicitly establishes Yom Kippur as the Day of Atonement; Tashlich should not be confused with that biblical commandment.
Yeshua's teaching emphasizes repentance and transformation of the heart.
Tashlich can be a meaningful devotional tradition when it points us toward biblical repentance.
Tashlich should never become superstition or a substitute for obedience.
True repentance may require confession, restitution, reconciliation, forgiveness, and changed behavior.
Jewish tradition can be appreciated without being confused with Torah.
The deepest question isn't what I throw into the water—it is what I am willing to surrender to HaShem.

Reflection Questions

I would encourage you to sit quietly with these questions before HaShem.

What sin or failure have I been carrying that I need to honestly confess?
Am I truly repentant, or am I simply sorry that I experienced consequences?
What behavior does HaShem want me to change?
Is there someone I need to apologize to?
Is there someone I need to forgive?
Is there restitution I need to make?
Am I holding onto shame that HaShem is asking me to release?
Have I confused a Jewish tradition with a biblical commandment?
Do my traditions point me toward HaShem or sometimes distract me from Him?
What does genuine repentance look like in my life right now?
What did Yeshua teach that challenges the condition of my heart?
What is one concrete change I can make this week?
What am I afraid to surrender to HaShem?
Do I actually believe that HaShem delights in mercy?
If I truly believed that HaShem is faithful and forgiving, how would I live differently?

The Water Is Not the Miracle

If I ever find myself standing beside the water during Tashlich, I hope I remember this.

The water isn't the miracle.

The bread isn't the miracle.

The ritual isn't the miracle.

Mercy is the miracle.

The miracle is that after my failures, HaShem still calls me to return.

The miracle is that repentance doesn't have to be the funeral of my future.

The miracle is that I can acknowledge where I have gone wrong without believing that failure is all I will ever be.

The miracle is that the God of Israel is merciful.

Micah reminds me that HaShem delights in mercy.

And Yeshua reminds me again and again that the kingdom of Heaven calls me toward repentance, humility, forgiveness, love, and transformed living.

So perhaps, when I stand beside the water, I don't need to pretend that I am performing a biblical command.

I can simply acknowledge what I am doing.

I am remembering.

I am repenting.

I am returning.

And then I can leave the water with one simple question burning in my heart:

"What will I do differently now?"

Because ultimately, repentance isn't about what I throw away.

It's about whom I am returning to.

And I am returning to HaShem.

With humility.

With hope.

With an open heart.

And with the confidence that His mercy is greater than my failure.

A Closing Prayer

Avinu Malkeinu,

I come before You with an honest heart.

You know the things I have done that I am ashamed of.

You know the words I wish I could take back.

You know the people I have hurt, the opportunities I have wasted, and the places where I have wandered away from Your ways.

Help me not to hide behind religious activity.

Teach me genuine repentance.

Give me the courage to confess what needs to be confessed, repair what can be repaired, forgive those whom I need to forgive, and change the behaviors that need to change.

Create in me a clean heart, O Elohim, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.

Help me understand the difference between Your commandments and human traditions.

Give me wisdom to honor meaningful Jewish traditions without placing them above Your Word.

And when I remember the words of Micah—that You cast our sins into the depths of the sea—help me remember that the power is not in the water.

The power is in Your mercy.

Help me walk in the ways You have taught us through Your Torah, Your Prophets, and the teachings of Yeshua.

May the Ruach HaKodesh guide my heart toward truth, humility, repentance, obedience, and love.

Let me not merely say that I have changed.

Let my life demonstrate it.

And when I leave the water, help me leave behind more than a symbol.

Help me leave behind the person I no longer need to be.

Lead me forward in faithfulness.